Lost and Found
by Fandom-xi
Summary: Dean and Sam have have had no word from Cas for a month, since the events of 8x23. Then, one day, a mysterious letter arrives at the bunker, and the boys set out once more, intent on finding their angel. Was a future S9 fic, but is now an AU, technically.
1. Chapter 1

Anna, back when she was still human, had said what a painful experience becoming human was. She had described how removing your grace was, to an angel, like cutting out one of your kidneys with a butter knife. Every night, when he went to sleep, Dean felt that same painful burning on his back, and the hard impact of the ground, before he woke up, drenched in sweat.

Some nights, he dreamt he was back in Hell, fighting alongside Cas against hordes of demons; but for every one they killed, two more took its place, and they were soon overpowered. Some nights Metatron joined him in his dreams. He forced Dean to choose whether to save Cas or Sam, but no matter who he chose, he couldn't save either of them. Other times he was back in Purgatory, fighting off wave after wave of monsters with Benny and Cas. However, soon Benny would fall, and not long after, Cas would die too, and Dean would be too late to save either of them. Then the ground would crumble underneath his feet, and he would be falling through the void, completely alone.

No matter how the dreams began, they always ended the same way- Dean hurtling through the night sky, wings burning off of his back, before he slammed into the cold, hard, earth. Then he would wake up. Even for him he wasn't getting much sleep. He would wake up at two in the morning and start to work on the Impala, surf the internet, or work on his aim, not wanting to go back to sleep.

One morning, Sam was woken up by the sound of gunshots echoing throughout the bunker, like a bird unable to escape a glass cage. A very loud, noisy, bird. Though he understood what his brother had gone through, he wished Dean could find something quieter to do to calm his nerves. He imagined dean sitting on the couch holding a pair of blue knitting needles, making a purple sweater patterned with butterflies. He chuckled softly at the thought. Sam rolled out of bed, groaning, as he headed to the gun range. He came in just as Dean was firing off his last shots, and peered downrange. the target. "Dude, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Dean replied gruffly, though clearly he wasn't. "How are _you_ feeling, princess?"

After quitting the trials, Sam had gotten weak, and so sick he nearly died. Over the past few weeks since the incident, though, he had been getting better. "Dean-" Sam began, though Dean cut him off. "I said I'm _fine_, dammit!"

Sam shifted slightly. "No, you're not. You barely eat, you rarely sleep... all you do is work on the Impala and browse the internet! This is just like when dad died, only without the cases to distract you!"

"Well, what do you want me to do? We have no leads on the angels, and no idea where Cas is, if he's even alive!" He turned away from his brother and started to reload the pistol. Sam frowned, but said nothing, then left to go make some coffee. Once Dean was sure his brother was gone, he turned and unloaded a clip into the target. Looking downrange, he threw down the pistol in disgust and stalked out of the room.

All of his shots had missed.

Dean was sitting in his room reading Lord of the Rings: the two Towers when Sam's heavy footsteps sounded in the hallway outside his door. He knocked, and poked his head in. Seeing what Dean was readinghe looked at him quizzically."Lord of the Rings? Really? I didn't think you were into that stuff."  
Dean shrugged. "The movies were pretty good."

"Anyways," Sam said, "I'm gonna go get some food. You want any?"

Dean shook his head no.

"Suit yourself," Sam left, but forgot close the door behind him.

"Dude!" Dean yelled, annoyed. "Not cool!" He heard the bunker door close. Grumbling, he set the book facedown on the bed, leaving it open to the spot he was at. Dean had just grabbed the doorknob when the bunker door opened again. "Dean!" his brother yelled. Still annoyed, he went into the dining room. Sam stood there, holding an unopened letter in his hand. Dean stared at the envelope. "Can we even _get_ mail?" he asked curiously. Sam turned the envelope over in his hands. "It's blank," he commented. "Whoever sent this must have hand delivered it." He carefully opened the letter, pulling out the folded paper inside and throwing the envelope onto the table. Dean grabbed it and confirmed that it was, indeed, blank; no sending address, no stamp, no return address. He tossed the empty envelope back onto the table, returning his attention to Sam. "So, who's it from?" Dean prompted. Sam's eyes grew wide as he examined the contents of the letter.

"It's from Cas!" he exclaimed. Dean immediately sharpened, his attention riveted. "What's it say?" he asked, going around the table to look over his brother's shoulder at the letter.

"_Dear Sam and Dean_," Sam started to read aloud.

"_I apologize for not contacting you sooner, and for doing it in this form.  
I have had a rather busy month. The angels blame me for getting forced  
out of heaven, and want revenge. I am being hunted, and though the  
angels fell, they still retained much of their power. As I am human now,  
I am fragile and get injured easily. I cannot stay in one place for long, or  
angels would find me. I cannot risk putting you into danger- that is why  
I haven't contacted you sooner. Even dropping off this letter was risky. I  
will be long gone by the time you get this, so do not try to find me. I am  
more harm then help to you right now, without my angelic powers, and  
with the many angels out for my blood. Being with me, or even near me,  
would put you both in terrible danger. The angels have not taken any  
notice of you yet, though I fear that if you call much attention to yourself  
they will shift part of the blame to you. I must ask you stop looking for  
me. This is not your fight. From, Cas"_


	2. Chapter 2

Dean clenched his jaw, reading and rereading Cas's letter. Sam carefully folded it back up and handed it to his brother. "So what do you think?" he asked. Dean grabbed the letter, sliding it into his pocket. "I think," he said, grabbing his jacket off the back of a chair. "That someone in town must've seen Cas." He pulled on his jacket with a small smile- the first one in a while. "Coming?"

"Of course," Sam smiled a little, too, though it was twinged with sadness. He didn't want to get his hopes up, and he didn't want Dean to, either. Though he was glad to see his brother happy again, he didn't think Dean could deal with another big letdown.

He hopped into the shotgun seat of the Impala. Dean turned the key in the ignition, and the car roared to life. AC/DC began to blare out through the speakers as they tore down the highway. Sam looked at his brother. "You really think Cas is still in town?"

"Even if he's not, someone must've seen him." Dean replied, glancing at Sam. "Besides, it's been, what, five hours since one of us last went out? He can't have gone far- I don't even think the guy can drive." Sam was less certain.

They pulled up to a gas station a few minutes later and went inside. Soft music was playing in through the speakers. The clerk was a thin, shrimpy guy who looked unnaturally pale. "May I help you?" he asked. "Yeah, we're looking for a guy about-" Dean held up his hand about six feet off the ground, "this tall, messy black hair, blue eyes, might've been wearing a trench coat or some plaid?" The clerk shook his head. "Sorry, I haven't seen anyone like that." "Well, thanks for your help."

And so it continued. They checked every motel, gas station, and fast food place until, at about 8:30 at night, they finally found someone who had seen him. They were at a gas station on the far side of town, talking to the rather attractive blonde woman at the counter.

"Did he have really blue eyes?" She asked.

Dean smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, he came through here a couple of hours ago, bought some water and a bag of chips."

"Did you see which way he went?"

The woman pointed down the road. "He went down there, then turned right at the first corner."

Dean smiled. "Thanks for your help," he looked at the woman's name tag. "Mandy." Mandy returned the smile. "Anytime." Sam cleared his throat and gave a pointed look to Dean. "Nice meeting you, Mandy." he said, and left with his brother in tow.

They decided to walk down the street, instead of taking the Impala, in case they missed something. Just to be prepared, they each grabbed a pistol and tucked it into their waistband. They walked slowly down the empty street. Abandoned warehouses lined the road, staring at the brothers with lonely eyes. "How the hall are we supposed to find him?" Dean hissed. "He could be in any of these!"

"Well, he _is_ hiding," Sam pointed out. Dean glared at him. "Look," Sam said, pointing to one of the warehouses across the street. The door stood ajar. Dean raised his eyebrows. Sam shrugged. They began to creep toward the empty building, pistols out. Dean nudged the door open further. They could see dusty footsteps leading farther into the warehouse. Yellow light from the streetlight outside filtered in through the door a short way, before being swallowed by the darkness. Swirling shafts of moonlight drifted in through holes in the ceiling. The boys turned on their flashlights, the beams illuminating rows and rows of empty crates and pallets.

They followed the trail to the back of the building, weaving in and out of stacks of crates. In the far corner, they found signs of human activity. The floor was littered with empty chip bags and fast food wrappers. There were also a couple of pennies on the ground. But no Cas. "Cas, you son of a bitch." Dean mumbled.

They heard the door creak open on the other side of the warehouse. Slow footsteps echoed through the empty room. The brothers immediately switched off their flashlights and ducked into the shadows.

"I know you're in here."

A light female voice drifted through the warehouse. "Come out, come out, wherever you are!"

Dean peeked over one of the crates. The newcomer stood silhouetted against the doorway by the streetlight. All Dean could tell was that she was thin, and somewhat short. "Come on, let's play a little game!" She said, looking around. Dean ducked back into the shadows. He could hear the footsteps drawing closer. Sam's shadowy form was crouched down beside him. Other than the door they came through, they couldn't see any other exits over the rows of crates. However, Sam had spotted a side door on the west side of the building. He motioned to Dean and pointed to his left. Dean nodded. Together, they stood, staying low, and moved from shadow to shadow, avoiding the gaze of the woman, who was searching up and down the rows. Dean looked back to check where the newcomer was at, but couldn't see her. _Where'd she go? _He wondered briefly. A plasticky crunch came from under his foot. Sam looked back at his brother. Dean was mortified as he pulled his foot away from the empty water bottle he had stepped on.

"Found you." the woman hissed with glee.

The brothers exchanged glances. "Time to go!" Dean said, breaking into a run."Yup," Sam agreed, following. They heard the woman start to run. They rounded a corner. "This way!" Sam shouted. The stranger turned the corner in front of them, grinning. "Where's your friend?" She asked. "Okay not this way!" Sam said, backpedaling. They set off in the other direction, the woman hot on their heels. They wove in and out of the crates, knocking stuff over behind them, hoping to shake her, but it was no good. They could hear her footsteps gaining.

Sam felt something hook under his feet, sending him flying. He toppled heavily into a stack of pallets, sending up a billowing cloud of dust and sawdust. Dean whirled. The stranger had stopped running, and was walking toward him at a leisurely pace, not even breathing hard. She stopped in a patch of moonlight, and Dean could finally see her. She might have been pretty once, but she did not look like she was taken care of. Her strawberry blonde hair was tangled, her jeans torn, and her face streaked with dirt and rust. Or maybe it was blood- he couldn't tell.

"Like it?" She asked, twirling a strand of hair through her fingers. "It's new." She said with a sinister smile. "Are you a demon?" Dean asked, pistol out. She laughed. "Oh, no, no! God no! I'm from the other side of the creature spectrum." Dean stared at her. "You're an angel?" Sam had crawled back to his feet, rubbing his head. "Give the clever man a medal" She said, with a wide smile. "My name's Layla. Yes, I'm an angel. Or at least, I was." She faked a pout.

"Your friend Castiel's not very nice, is he?"

"It wasn't his fault," Dean insisted.

"No, it really wasn't, was it? Unfortunately for him, the angels have made up their minds." Layla smiled gleefully. "I always did enjoy a nice torture session." Dean was starting to get get the idea that this fallen angel was just a tiny bit insane.

She sniffled and pretended to wipe a tear from her eye. "It's a crying shame he's not here, really." Layla laid a hand over her heart. "I'm just so worried about him." _Yes_, Dean though. _She is most definitely insane._

"Well, it's been nice talking to you. The angels- er, former angels- send their love, and sincerely hope that they do not see you again, for your own sake. Stay out of their way." She smiled sweetly. "It was nice to finally meet the the Winchester brothers. I have heard so much about you." Layla gave a a tiny wave. She melted back into the shadows. "Until next time." she said, and they heard the door creak closed. The brothers exchanged glances.

_What the hell?_


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorry!**

**This took way longer to update than I imagined. Please note that this is going to be the last chapter, besides the epilogue. I was fully intending on making this story longer, I just kind of gave up on it. If you are returning, welcome back! Congratulations! If you are new, well, um, congratulations too, I guess!**

"Okay, so, let me get this straight- a former angel just threatened us to stay out of the way of other former angels, so that they can get revenge on another former angel that actually didn't do it?" Dean summarized.

"I think so, but with a smidge of crazy. With emphasis on crazy,"

Dean scoffed. "If by 'smidge' you mean 'hopped on the crazy train and rode it all the way to crazytown'".

They clicked on their flashlights, sweeping them in a wide arc to either side. The previously neatly stacked rows of boxes had been scttered in every direction during the chase. The warehouse was a complete mess.

"Oops," Dean stated simply.

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "Lets get out of here before someone calls animal control on a rampaging elephant," The brothers started off toward the exit, but stopped when the door creaked open once again, yellow light spilling out over the floor.

"If that lady is back," Dean growled. "I swear to god I will shoot her in the face, angel pals or no." Sam silently agreed, taking out his pistol.

A low whistle reverberated throughout the cavernous room, making the boys jump slightly. A deep, heavily accented voice folloed it.

"You boys really know how to make a mess, don't you?"

"_Crowley?_" Sam hissed, half annoyed, half shocked. The last time he had seen the demon was during the final trial, when he had nearly died. Dean had taken him to the hospital, and Crowley had slipped off their radar once again. The last thing they needed was another pissed off supernatural being on their tail. "What the hell is he doing here?"

"I understand that you have managed to lose your angel," Crowley continued. Dean raised an eyebrow, suspicious. _Where the hell was he going with this?_

"I thought I might offer my..." he paused. "Services?" Sam and Dean exchanged glances. There was silence for the next few moments.

"So, you're just doing this out of the goodness of your heart?" Dean finally asked. Crowley had not exactly been trustworthy or reliable in the past.

"Well, first off," the demon began. "If I do this, you boys will owe me one, which can't hurt." Dean scowled. "Secondly, helping you two dunderheads will slow down Abbadon, and, well, I really like my position as top dog." More silence.

Dean asked cautiously, "How do we know we can trust you?"

"You can't, I'm a demon. However, you're going to have to trust me unless you enjoy running around chasing your tails."

Sam turned to his brother and hissed, "You aren't seriously thinking of trusting him, are you?"

"What choice do we have?" Dean shot back. "We're backed into a corner, and he's the only shot we have. Besides, I'm not thinking of trusting him, I'm thinking of using him!"

"That's _exactly _what you said about Ruby! And look how well _that_ turned out!"

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look Sam, I'm just not seeing another option here."

Sam ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't like this..." he muttered.

"I know you don't, but just roll with it." They stood up slowly, not taking their eyes off Crowley. "How do you plan on finding him?" Dean questioned. Crowley smirked.

"Thought you'd never ask. It's a little spell that's come in handy over the years."

"We've already tried using a spell." Sam informed him. "It didn't work."

"Are you the king of Hell? No? Didn't think so. Now will you two stop doubting me and help gather the things I need to find your friend?" Dean nodded.

"What do you need?"

**-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-**

They wasted no time gathering the ingredients for the spell while Crowley made the necessary preparations. The boys fidgeted anxiously as Crowley double checked everything. He declared everything in order just as the first fingers of dawn were creeping over the horizon. The spell itself didn't take long, perhaps three minutes at the most, but for Dean it seemed to stretch on for an eternity. They watched Crowley closely, searching for anything that might suggest he was being anything less than truthful.

The demon recited the last few words, dropping a pinch of black powder onto a sputtering candle. The silence afterwards was deafening, and the brothers felt like rubber bands that had been stretched just a little too tight, ready to snap at any moment. You could cut the tension with a knife.

"Got him," Crowley announced after an agonizing pause. Dean let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. After weeks of pain, worry, and angst, they were finally closer to finding Cas then they had ever been. The end of their search was so... real, so tantalizingly close. He was finally going to see Cas again. His angel.

**The End?**

**Thank you all for reading, and stay tuned for an epilogue! If you have stuck with my story from the beginning, I thank you, and I award you with a cookie and a medal. All new readers also get my thanks, a cookie, and a medal. Where did I get all these medals. What is going on**


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